Chapter 406: Moon God Dragon
"Sorry! I thought no one would be able to discover me."
The voice was faint, echoing with an unnatural, hollow resonance that seemed to vibrate directly within the listener's mind rather than the physical air. Wraith, the Spirit Dragon Slayer of Diabolos, looked away, pulling his ethereal, semi-transparent form further back into the shadows of the room. Despite his immediate attempt at absolute stealth, he kept a wary, nervous eye on Ren using his peripheral vision.
As an actual ghost, Wraith was accustomed to existing in a state of absolute invisibility and intangibility. Yet, this monstrous mage resting on the bed had effortlessly pinpointed his exact coordinates without even bothering to glance in his direction. The sheer density of Ren's observation abilities and negative emotion sensing made traditional stealth entirely useless.
Ren didn't say anything more to the hovering spirit. He merely shifted his weight on the wooden bed, the thick mattress groaning under him. He was exhausted, craving nothing more than a solid night of uninterrupted sleep. As for being watched by a phantom? It didn't bother him in the slightest. If he truly wanted to leave, no one on this entire continent—living, dead, or undead—possessed the capability to monitor him against his will. He simply allowed the ghost to watch; the espionage was of no consequence to a man who held the power of gods in his hands.
Now that he had permanently finished off the colossal Wood God Dragon, Aldoron, Ren felt the lingering, chaotic adrenaline slowly fading from his veins. The sheer scale of the battle had been physically and mentally taxing, involving continent-shattering shockwaves and apocalyptic magic. But the monumental results spoke for themselves.
He had officially completed two of the five impossible tasks required to seal the God Dragons of Guiltina. Mercphobia, the Water God Dragon, had been severely wounded, stripped of his volatile magic, and neutralized. Now, the great Aldoron was nothing more than a lifeless, decaying mountain range of wood.
However, as he stared up at the wooden ceiling of the inn, a slight frown creased his features. He currently had no concrete clues regarding the locations or domains of the remaining three legendary beasts.
But he wasn't entirely operating in the dark. This very town, Drasil, had been built directly upon the massive, continent-sized body of the Wood God Dragon specifically to monitor its slumber. By that logic, the ruling Magic Council of this northern continent undoubtedly possessed a vast, highly classified archive detailing the movements, local myths, and magical signatures of the other God Dragons. As long as he snuck into the Guiltina Magic Council's central headquarters—bypassing their rune guards and slicing through their security wards—he would surely be able to extract the relevant information.
Overall, as he analyzed his current trajectory, the progress of the legendary 100-Year Quest was proceeding at a terrifyingly smooth pace. In less than a month of arriving on these foreign shores, two of the invincible Five God Dragons had already been decisively dealt with. If he kept this aggressive momentum, he fully expected to hunt down, isolate, and finish off the remaining three within the next month as well, shattering a century-old legend in mere weeks.
In the early morning, the golden rays of the sun pierced through the thin, dusty curtains of the inn, accompanied by the crisp, cheerful chirping of birds. Ren slowly opened his eyes, stretching his limbs with a heavy, satisfying groan. After a full night of deep, dreamless rest, the bone-deep fatigue and muscular soreness from yesterday's cataclysmic clash with the Wood God Dragon had entirely vanished. His vast, ocean-like reservoir of magic power was already fully restored, humming with vibrant, destructive energy just beneath his skin, demanding to be used.
"Full of energy!" Ren muttered to himself, a highly satisfied smirk crossing his face as he swung his legs out of bed. "I'll go grab a massive breakfast first to replenish my calories. Then, I'll start hunting for concrete clues about the remaining Five God Dragons."
Leaving the inn, Ren easily navigated the bustling, sunlit streets of the city. Despite the recent, terrifying tectonic shifts caused by Aldoron's demise, the local citizens were remarkably resilient, already going about their morning routines and rebuilding damaged stalls. Ren found a spacious, lively restaurant that smelled heavily of roasted spices and claimed a large, sturdy oak table near the open window.
After waving down a waitress and ordering an obscene amount of food—five plates of roasted meats, steaming bowls of thick stew, and towering stacks of fresh bread—Ren sat back and began to eat. He devoured the meal with the ravenous, unapologetic appetite of a man whose body passively burned thousands of calories just to sustain his monstrous physical strength and high-speed regeneration.
After a short while, just as Ren was polishing off his third plate of ribs, the heavy wooden doors of the restaurant swung open. The ambient chatter of the local patrons noticeably dipped as several imposing figures stepped inside, their sheer presence instantly suffocating the warm atmosphere. Their combined magical aura was sharp, distinctly aggressive, and undeniably stained with the heavy, metallic scent of dragon blood.
They entirely ignored the terrified waitstaff, walking with unhurried, predatory confidence directly toward the corner where Ren was sitting.
"Well, well. We meet again!" Kiria, the Blade Dragon Slayer, greeted him with a wide, impossibly sharp, bloodthirsty grin. She rested a hand loosely on her hip, her wild, unhinged demeanor starkly at odds with the quaint, domestic setting of the restaurant.
Ren paused mid-bite, swallowed his mouthful of meat, and looked up. A relaxed, entirely unfazed smile graced his features as he immediately recognized the trio from the dark guild. "Yeah! We meet again. It seems we're really destined to cross paths on this continent."
Standing slightly behind the chaotic woman, Madmole and Skullion Raider couldn't help but feel a subtle, instinctual knot of pure tension tighten in their guts just from making eye contact with him. When they had first encountered Ren, they had arrogantly assumed he was just a wandering, albeit highly skilled, human mage. But reality had proven to be far more horrifying. Who among them could have ever expected that this solitary, perpetually relaxed young man was the apocalyptic, god-tier anomaly capable of single-handedly crippling the Water God Dragon and utterly annihilating the immortal Wood God Dragon?
"Mr. Ren," Skullion stepped forward, adjusting his dark, skeletal half-mask. As the most level-headed and articulate of the strike team, he naturally took the role of lead negotiator, his tone remarkably respectful. "I am the Corpse Ash Dragon Slayer, Skullion Raider. I represent the Diabolos Guild on this specific venture."
"Hmm," Ren grunted, picking up a napkin to idly wipe the grease from his mouth. "Do you have some actual business with me?"
"It's like this," Skullion began, clasping his hands securely behind his back. "We have received confirmed intelligence that Mr. Ren is here on the Northern Continent to complete the legendary 100-Year Quest to seal the Five God Dragons. Interestingly enough, our Diabolos Guild operates with a very similar overarching goal to yours."
Ren raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "That shouldn't be right. You lot are Fifth-Generation Dragon Slayers. You are literal Dragon Eaters."
"Yes, we are Dragon Eaters," Skullion admitted openly, without a single shred of hesitation or moral shame. "We obtain our unique Dragon Slayer Magic and forcefully increase our physical strength by preying on the flesh and blood of real dragons. But, as Mr. Ren has personally witnessed with how the Wood God Dragon treated humanity—viewing them as nothing more than fertilizer—such a tyrannical creature deserves to die."
Skullion's logic was brutally pragmatic. There was absolutely no need for them to hide their greed from a man who operated on such a supreme level of power. "Although our primary goal is undeniably selfish, intended only to increase our own power, we are, by extension, eradicating evil dragons that threaten the world. We are doing good deeds."
"A fair point," Ren conceded, his gaze turning analytical. "So, what is your exact purpose in seeking me out today?"
"It's quite simple," Skullion replied, his eyes narrowing slightly in calculation. "Our Guild Master, Georg Reizen, has heard the widespread rumors of Lord Ren's impossible deeds. He sent us to formally invite Mr. Ren to cooperate with our guild in hunting the remaining Five God Dragons."
"Cooperation..." Ren thought for a moment, letting the word hang heavily in the air.
He honestly hadn't expected a notoriously aggressive dark guild to actively seek an alliance with him. He generally had zero interest in working with established factions, vastly preferring the absolute, unhindered freedom of operating solo. However, tracking the elusive God Dragons across an unfamiliar, massive continent was proving to be a severe logistical headache. If Diabolos could provide accurate intelligence and handle the mundane tracking, a temporary cooperation wasn't entirely out of the question.
"Cooperation isn't impossible," Ren finally said, his voice measured. "But let's be realistic here. What kind of tangible help can you actually provide me?"
"Help?" Skullion seemed slightly stunned, momentarily taken aback by the bluntness of the question. "We have an entire guild of highly trained Fifth-Generation Dragon Slayers. We can help Lord Ren hunt the Five God Dragons together, providing overwhelming vanguard support, so..."
Ren raised a single hand, instantly interrupting Skullion. The gesture was small, but it carried an undeniable, crushing weight of absolute authority.
"Let me stop you right there," Ren said, his tone turning deadpan. "While the Five God Dragons are undoubtedly very powerful, tracking and hunting them is, at worst, only a bit troublesome for me. Your individual strength is decent for normal human mages, I'll admit that. But compared to the apocalyptic, world-ending might of the Five God Dragons, it's simply not enough. You would just be getting in my way."
"Ugh..." Skullion choked on his words, his jaw tightening defensively.
He desperately wanted to issue a sharp rebuttal, to defend the fierce pride of the Diabolos Guild, but the words died in his throat. The three of them had personally experienced the suffocating, oceanic pressure of the Water God Dragon. Only by barely surviving that brief encounter did they truly realize that the God Dragons' strength existed on a plane far beyond anything they could ever hope to match.
"To put it simply," Ren continued, offering them a patronizing, entirely serious smile. "I could comfortably take on a hundred guys exactly like you, simultaneously, without breaking a sweat."
"Mr. Ren," Skullion ground out, the polite facade cracking slightly. "Isn't that an incredibly arrogant exaggeration?"
The faces of Kiria, Madmole, and Skullion darkened considerably, their magical auras flaring in instinctual, violent offense.
"Negative! This humble one flatly refuses to believe that you could handle a hundred of me."
A new voice cut sharply through the tension—disciplined, cold, and carrying the unmistakable, heavy weight of a master swordsman.
A young man stepped out from the shadows behind the imposing frame of Madmole, looking directly at Ren. He wore pristine, traditional samurai attire, a katana securely strapped to his waist, and his eyes burned with an intense, unyielding martial spirit.
Ren's gaze shifted to the newcomer, his expression turning slightly curious at the sheer density of the man's presence. "And who might you be?"
"This humble one is Suzaku," the swordsman declared, bowing his head an exact, respectful fraction of an inch before locking eyes again. "I hold the title of the Sword Saint Dragon Slayer, serving as a vanguard of the Diabolos Guild's elite Dark Dragon Slayer Knights."
Ren narrowed his eyes, his advanced magical senses sweeping over Suzaku in a fraction of a second, thoroughly dissecting the man's latent power.
Impressive, Ren thought to himself.
This guy's magic power wasn't just empty talk. If Ren were to quantify it using his internal system, Suzaku sat comfortably at around seven and a half stars. If this samurai were dropped onto the continent of Ishgar, his raw, concentrated power alone would be more than enough to instantly guarantee him a top seat among the Ten Wizard Saints.
One could never underestimate the sheer, monstrous density of a seven-and-a-half-star magic rating. Reaching such a level required an astronomically high innate aptitude for magic and decades of grueling refinement. On a global scale, only a true immortal like the Black Wizard Zeref had managed to consistently gather and cultivate anomalies that surpassed this threshold—the dreaded Spriggan 12, who boasted apocalyptic ratings of eight and a half stars.
"Hmm. Your strength is actually quite decent!" Ren said, nodding in genuine, albeit casual, acknowledgment. "But, unfortunately for your pride, it is only just decent."
"This one respectfully disagrees," Suzaku retorted immediately, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his katana. "Who is truly stronger in the ways of magic and the sword can only be known after the crucible of a real battle."
"Suzaku?!" Skullion hissed, his eyes widening in pure alarm.
The Ash Dragon Slayer hadn't expected the usually highly disciplined swordsman to be so recklessly direct. The opponent sitting calmly across from them was the very man who had wounded the Water God Dragon and effortlessly defeated the Wood God Dragon, yet Suzaku actually wanted to duel him so directly. Even if Suzaku was an elite member of the Dark Dragon Slayer Knights, wasn't this a bit too aggressively reckless?
Ren rested his chin on his hand, looking at the incredibly tense samurai. "So, what? You want to settle things with me right here and now?"
"Affirmative!" Suzaku declared, his aura sharpening into a hyper-focused blade of magical intent that caused the surrounding wooden tables to groan under the invisible pressure.
"Hmm... never mind." Ren let out a heavy sigh, dissipating his own aura and lazily waving his hand. "I pass."
"What?" Suzaku blinked, his intense, battle-ready glare faltering into utter confusion. "You... you are actually refusing a formal challenge?"
The swordsman was utterly baffled. He hadn't expected Ren to refuse just like that. For a warrior of such unfathomable strength to dismissively refuse a challenge from a worthy opponent was something he found quite incredible, bordering on cowardly.
"There's no big issue with the cooperation," Ren said, ignoring Suzaku's shock and turning his attention back to Skullion. "But I have my own rules. I am not a butcher who kills the innocent indiscriminately."
Ren tapped the table, his eyes turning cold. "If the opponent is a tyrannical, evil dragon, then fighting, killing, and letting you feast on its corpse doesn't matter to me. But if they've turned over a new leaf and live peacefully, like the Water God Dragon, then I won't lift a single finger to help you deal with someone like that."
If it had been a few years ago, Ren might have actually been thrilled by Suzaku's challenge. He used to live for the adrenaline of competing with strong opponents. But now? His mind was an incredibly crowded place. Through his unique Take Over System, he had absorbed the souls and memories of legendary figures. With the collective memories of men who had fought apocalyptic wars and shattered continents echoing in his subconscious—lifetimes consumed by endless fighting and bloodshed—he now had very little interest in petty, ego-driven duels. He would much rather spend that time having a good rest.
As for the alliance, he genuinely didn't mind working with others. As long as it acted as an efficient intelligence network that helped complete his monumental task faster, why would he refuse free labor?
Skullion, Kiria, and Madmole exchanged shocked glances. They certainly hadn't expected Ren to agree to the cooperation so readily, especially after blatantly insulting their collective strength.
"By the way," Ren asked, taking a sip of his water and locking eyes with Skullion. "Who is your guild's next target?"
He happened to have no information whatsoever on the next coordinate. Since the dark guild had been obsessively targeting the Five God Dragons for years, they clearly possessed a massive wealth of intelligence. They already knew the exact location of the Water God Dragon and the resting place of the Wood God Dragon, so they logically knew about the remaining three as well.
Skullion adjusted his collar, a grim, dead-serious expression settling over his masked features as he leaned in slightly.
"Our next target," Skullion stated, his voice dropping to a low, cautious whisper, "is the Moon God Dragon, Selene."
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